Deadly Noxious Herbs
by Cyanide Waffle
Summary: A haphazard collection of the adventures of Lucifer Donovia and his associate, Carlyle Kincaid. Mildly yaoi. ;3 The appropriate genre would be: Humour/Romance/Friendship/Adventure, but it won't really fit.
1. Chapter 1

**musings**

**disclaimer:** I do not own Ragnarok online, or any of the jobclasses and other stuff. Bummer. I DID make up the rules to "Toss the poring" and "Rockers", though. Also, I own the character Count Lucifer Donovia, although credit for "Lule" goes to Alchemygeek of .

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Count Lucifer Donovia grinned into his glass. The glass wasn't half full, nor was it half empty. It was simply twice as large as it had to be. This is how the thought process of the great count works. In a situation where people are busy trying to figure out in a crime scene investigation who the bloody knife belonged to, Lucifer is the sort of person who will point to the shadowy corner of the room and say,"Why don't you just ask that guy crouching there with the terrified expression on his face and bloodstains on his shirt?" Lucifer is beyond logic. He simply _is_. A hazy minute later, he realized that he had referred to himself as the 'great count'. He scowled. He didn't think he was that drunk, yet. It seemed that his tolerance to alcohol was capable of reducing, if he didn't get enough practice.

He realized that a pretty young woman had been staring at him from an adjacent table for a while, now. He glanced in her direction, and spotted the familiar ogle that drunk or dull-witted women reserved for him. He usually found this funny- and would take full advantage of it, but somehow, he wasn't in the mood for it today. He half heartedly flashed a perfect pearly grin at her, and saw the ogle reach a critical angle. He sighed and looked back into the golden, foamy depths of his glass again, and grinned at the thought of what his mum would say if she could see him now.

Count Lucifer Donovia was a charming young lad, who was destined to take over the Donovia estate and head the various businesses that the Donovia family owned, and then get married and look pretty and spend the afternoons 'polishing' his intellect like all other males in his family before him in the large in-house library of the estate. He would probably have then moved on to dignified games, such as cricket or chess or something of the sort. He would never get to play toss-the-poring or rockers with his friends. This was mainly because of his acute lack of friends.

It wasn't that Lucifer wasn't amiable. He was - and still is - good looking, and good at heart. The only problem is the fact that he got used to people listening to what he said and getting what he wanted without really working for it for fifteen long years. It had come as a bit of a shock when realization that the world contained untamed green banged vixens that were capable of giving him a good ear bashing in what he thought to be incredibly inventive slang when he ordered the said vixen to pick up his cricket ball and deliver it back to him, right this instant. That was how he first met Lule. He remembered vaguely thinking that she must be sacked immediately for her insolence, but the thought soon left him when he got to talk with her a bit. She found his mannerisms odd, and he couldn't see what she had against proper grammar. Nevertheless, they got along well.

Luc sipped from his glass and wrinkled his nose as the liquid burnt down his throat. It was Lule, a year later, who had helped him get out...

He dropped a few coins on the table and unsteadily got to his feet. The lady from the table got up and came over, to his amusement and surprise. They sometimes did, if he ignored them pointedly for long enough. He knew what was coming next.

"Hi" She breathed. He saw that she was fashionably dressed, in the sort of way that took five hours each morning and involved lots of cover-ups. "You need a hand?"

Lucifer peered at her through his silver locks. He is the rare sort of guy that only takes advantage of situations like these when he is sober enough to think of the idea. When drunk, however, he ends up a hopeless romantic that has his heart set on only one person, and sees nothing else, even if you chuck it right in his face.

"I'm alright, thanks" He mumbled, and trudged out the door into the cool night air.

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**author's notes:** If you liked my fanfic, please be sure to review it :) You will most definitely see these characters again, along with their friends. The awesome peoples of Oh! Porings are working on a collaborative fanfiction, and this is part of it. Well, sort of- I'm not sure if we'll be using this particular write up.

Oh, and, if you ever want to stop by on the Oh! Porings forum, you'll be more than welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own RO. Bugger. Lets get on with it!

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_Fumbling his confidence  
And wond'ring why the world has passed him by  
Hoping that he's meant for more than arguments  
And failed attempts to fly, fly_  
I felt the usual mess of emotions and thoughts in my head grow fuzzy as the music flowed through me from my headphones. I lay in the shadows of the world. The darkness is part of who I am, the shadows are my home.  
_We were meant to live for so much more  
Have we lost ourselves?  
Somewhere we live inside  
Somewhere we live inside..._  
Ah, the peace. Mundane worries eluded my mind. My already sharpened senses became even more acute as the peaceful sounds and smells surrounded me...  
_Dreaming about providence  
And whether mice or men have second tries_-

Crash. In fact, the word "crash" does not do justice to what happened next. Pandemonium may do it, or perhaps chaos. The fact remains that Nyx herself descended upon the only peaceful afternoon I'd had in weeks in the form of my personal angelic demon-thing of an associate, slave, and best friend, Carlyle Kincaid. I say angelic demon-thing because he has a knack for making my life hell, while still managing to get positive karma points for it. Life isn't fair.

His high pitched scream pierced the calm of the Payon forest. I found myself fervently hoping that there were no pissed off guild of powerful Wizards bent on killing us because _someone_ kept insisting that what they did was heresy this time. Lyle was now in my (rather large and acute) sense of hearing now. His footfalls were erratic, panicked as they thumped against the forest floor. His voice called out to me.

"JESUSCHRISTLUCIFER HELLLLLLLP"

Even after years of being around him, his voice and his unique...persona still freaked the hell out of me. Lyle is such a pancake. His voice is way too girly for comfort, and the perpetual blush on his 17-year-old virginal self didn't help things at all. To top it off, he was a Priest, and I know that some people are into that sort of thing - not that I have anything against it. Hey, everyone has their own fetish, right? The only thing that's really getting to me is that people were starting to get the wrong idea about us. Whatever it may seem like, my feelings for the lad are entirely fraternal. I love the boy, because its hella hard not to love a guy like that, even for me.

"LUCEEE HELP EDDGA HELP GET IT OFF MY TAILL"

Well, maybe not.

I sprang to my feet in a lithe motion, my assassin's garb making a very impressive "swish" sound. If your ears are fine tuned to it, then maybe you would hear the faintly audible clink that seemed to originate from the depths of my shadowy outfit as I positioned myself, which suggested the presence of various knives, kartars, thumbscrews, and, oh, the usual assortment of torture equipment. I am rather proud of my collection.

I heard Lyle approach me while breathlessly keeping up a string of what passed for swearing for him (hell knows what those stuck up clerics have against the normal stuff. As far as I know, Lyle's vocabulary largely comprises of "Golly" and "Snap"), still stumbling and doing a better job of hurting himself on the brambles than Eddga probably would of him when it caught up. He was less than four feet away from me now. I crouched, tensed like a spring, ready.

"LUCEE-"

I jumped out. He had no chance against a fighter like myself, the weakling. There was a brief scuffle, and we ended up in a highly debatable position together behind the nearest bush. My hand was clamped down on his mouth. I gave him the stern sort of professional assassin look that silenced his panicked squeaks. That didn't stop him from squirming under me, though, as if to intensify the embarrassing closeness. I did a mental headslap. He might be a clueless cookie, and I might be a pervert, but that didn't give him the excuse to exploit my chastity.

"Shh, shut the hell up or that thing will have the both of us!" I hissed at him.

Squeak. Wiggle. Wiggle. Hasty nod.

"I'm going to let go of you, now, okay? Don't make a sound. We could probably take the cat down eventually, but there's no point in bloodshed right now. We'll probably get badly hurt in the process."

Hasty nod. Nod. Nod. Nod.

I moved away from him, glad to have some distance between me and the personification of camp. He set himself upright, looking at me with those wide, awed chocolate brown eyes. Oh, god, that look had to be illegal. I watched blankly as he rustled what felt like each and every leaf in the bush as he made himself comfortable on his haunches, and then scratched his nose (which disrupted a nearby rabbit hole, and caused several lunatics to jump out and hop off). After creating this scene, he felt the need to whisper in a very loud voice, for the benefit of anyone within a mile that felt that Lyle was too incognito.

"Has it gone? Wow, how did you do that? You survived an Eddga attack without even breaking a sweat!"

Those damn chocolate eyes stared at my soul again, adamantly believing that I'm the most wonderful thing in existence. Lyle is like crack- he induces euphoria, but also tends to make you go batshit insane if you overdo him. No, not overdo in that way, you pervert.

"Urn, well, I sat still and waited for it to walk away."

"That was amazing!" He squeaked.

A metaphorical dust bunny drifted past. I sighed. I rolled my eyes. I may be a being of the shadows, but damn, this kid sure makes me want to feel the sun on my face.

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**Author's Note: **Ahaha, this was incredibly fun to write. Review if you liked it, or have any suggestions


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